


In Vino Veritas

by flowersaretarts



Series: Violets [5]
Category: Withnail & I (1986)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Romance, Wine, camden, kiss, sip kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 11:06:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3379262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersaretarts/pseuds/flowersaretarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when wine does not come first for Withnail, but is a mere excuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Vino Veritas

-…And for my next trick… - Withnail took a sip from the dark green bottle, - some grape goodness. Come on.

-No, thanks. I had enough.

-Rubbish! You barely had a glass. Stay where you are.

He leapt over the couch to appear in front of Marwood and towered over him.

-Thou shalt do what I command.

Laughing like a deranged hyena he mounted protesting Marwood, sat on him, pinning him down.

-Get off me, With!

-I most certainly refuse. You lowly mortals lack the courage to open yourself to divine pleasures. But I feel particularly generous today. I shall teach you, my child, and have you taste the true beauty of the wine world.

Withnail filled his glass and drank a mouthful of red.  
Kept it in his mouth. Savoured it.  
Then, swallowed and lowered himself to be face to face with Marwood.

-If you had had enough, you wouldn’t be saying “get off me, With”. - he mocked his friend’s voice with a crybaby grimace, - Hence, I demand you share the drink with me.

He pressed his face against Marwood’s, mouth to mouth,  
and didn’t move until he felt the tender lips responded, gave in, allowed the wine drops to sink.  
Proud of his victory, Withnail was not intend to stop, neither drinking, nor kissing those lips; oh, those lips, shaped to hurt, to put you in shame by their perfection, the cruel lips he craved so badly.  
Another drink, this time more wine, more taste, less resistance… The red drops, like blood, from man to man, the exchange, the sacrifice to the gods of lust and advanced inebrietion.

So many minutes later, Withnail was wiping the stray droplets off his lover’s face with his silk cravat, with almost Dracul-ish grin of satisfaction across his kisser.

-How about that, mon ami! In vino veritas.

-You’re a pig, Withnail. - smiled back the lips.


End file.
